Mourning Faces Real-life Court

Georgetown Center Questioned In Drug Trial, Claims He Was Unaware

November 24, 1989|By MICHAEL WILBON The Washington Post

WASHINGTON — Alonzo Mourning walked into the most secure courtroom in the U.S. District Court Building at 10 past 10 a.m. this week. Bulletproof glass separated the defendants, their attorneys, the judge and the jurors from anybody who might not be patient enough for justice to take its course.

Eleven defendants, including reputed cocaine kingpin Rayful Edmond III, were on trial and Mourning was called upon to testify as to just how much he knew about Edmond, Jerry Millington and other defendants.

Mourning would later join his teammates behind the walls and gates of Georgetown University to prepare for a holiday trip to Hawaii to play some basketball. But first, in this courtroom with the bulletproof glass and a metal detector outside the door, he would be hit with a dose of real life.

Attorney John Conte to Mourning, under oath, about what he saw while visiting Millington's house:

"Did you ever see any narcotics?

"No sir."

"Did you ever see any large amounts of money?"

"No sir."

"Did you see any money-counting machines?"

"No sir."

"Any drug paraphernalia?"

"No sir."

Another attorney, Barry Tapp, would ask, "Did you see his Volvo? Did you see the car phone in the Volvo? Did you see his beepers? Did you ride in his Pathfinder? Did you ask him if he had a job? Did you look in the kitchen and china cabinets (to find evidence of drugs)? Did you think the number of people in the house was unusual?"

"I never talked to him about his activities," Mourning said. "I didn't know anything about his activities. I've seen the beeper, yes, on him. On his side, I guess. I rode in the Pathfinder; from my remembrance, I think I went to the store. I didn't look in kitchen and china cabinets. No sir, I didn't think that was any of my business."

"Mr. Mourning, did you know about the Jacuzzi and the expensive tile in the back of the house?"

"No sir."

For more than an hour, counting time for objections (to almost every question asked by the prosecuting attorneys), a short recess and numerous sessions at the bench, Mourning answered such questions. Judge Charles Richey would ask questions from time to time and remind Mourning to wait for the objections to be sustained or overruled before he answered.

There was no high drama despite all the broadcast and print reporters. There was one funny moment, when one of the attorneys accidentally addressed Mourning as "Mr. Turner," a not-so-kind slip-reference to John Turner, the deposed Hoya who introduced Mourning to Edmond and Millington.

Mourning only confirmed what we already knew - that he had been associating with reputed drug dealers in the fall of 1988 and winter of 1989, and ceased doing so when his coach, John Thompson, started to hear things.

After ending his testimony, Mourning left the District Building while camera crews scattered to cover every conceivable exit. Finally Mourning's dilemma appeared to be over.

The problem lingers. Over and over, people in Courtroom 10 looked at Mourning - 6 feet 10, clean-cut, well-dressed in his black double-breasted blazer and slate-gray slacks, a man who eventually will earn millions of dollars. They looked at him and whispered to each other, "Isn't it stupid that he would associate with these guys?"

Everybody is attracted to a star, including drug dealers seeking to legitimize themselves through straight associates. Mourning is a star, one of the biggest in Washington. He lives in the city. His friends, for the most part, are city people. Wherever Mourning goes, people come up and ask for his autograph. Some of them might be drug dealers. Who's to know?

The most interesting thing about most of the 11 defendants in District Court Wednesday? They didn't necessarily look like stereotypical drug dealers, the ones you see on "Miami Vice." They didn't wear gold chains and designer sweat suits. They wore expensive shirts and silk ties, the same kind a banker, congressman or stock broker might wear.

Back during the summer, Mourning was in attendance at Capital Centre, watching the Ray Leonard-Thomas Hearns fight on closed-circuit television. He was mobbed by autograph seekers. Two of them - I noticed them, but I don't think he did - wore beepers. They looked like businessmen. Maybe they were doctors on call. Maybe they were drug dealers waiting to make a sale. Mourning was asked politely, and signed politely, for whoever they were.

The lesson Mourning has to learn from all this is that at 6-10, friendly, dashing and soon-to-be rich, he's going to attract a crowd for the rest of his life. The people who want to watch him, hang out after games with him, won't always be lawyers and doctors and sportswriters. He's got to be exceptionally careful about his associates.

Thompson was a safety net this time, but he won't always be. If Mourning doesn't learn from this mistake, next time it could be a lot more serious than answering a few questions behind bulletproof glass.